by Webb, Peggy
“Good morning,” she said, her voice soft and musical.
“Good morning, Ruth. Coffee?”
“No. I’m a juice person, myself.”
“Orange? Pineapple?”
“Whatever you have. I’m not picky.”
She leaned against the counter, ankles crossed, head tossed back, eyes closed. He coveted her, coveted his brother’s wife.
“Hmmm.” She made the small humming sound low in her throat. Something wild climbed through him. “I love music in the morning.”
“So do I,” he said, holding on to his coffee cup, holding on to his sanity.
“A Brahms intermezzo. Music for the soul.”
“And the heart.”
She opened her eyes and stared at him, understanding, knowing.
Neither of them was capable of moving, neither of them could stop staring; but they got through it somehow, that awkward moment when they might have ruined what they had with admissions that would change the way they viewed each other.
They were not free to give each other love, and so they would give what they could—friendship, kindness, easy camaraderie, and trust. Most of all, trust.
“After we eat, I’ll drive down the mountain and we’ll pick up your cat.”
“Good. Poor old Miranda. I’m sure she feels abandoned.”
“I’ve seen the way you pet that cat. She probably thinks you’re off planning some kind of entertainment specifically for her.”
“Are you hinting that I spoil my cat?”
The sun was warm on her bare feet, and since the sun was so rare in the early mornings in the Virungas, Ruth took it as a sign that what was happening in the kitchen, this remarkable connection of minds, spirits, and hearts, was right and good—so long as they both understood that it would never lead to the ultimate connection, the splendid oneness that comes with the joining of bodies perfectly attuned to each other.
“No. I’m not subtle enough to hint. Comes from living alone, I guess. I don’t have to bother with manners up here. The gorillas don’t care.”
“Thank goodness.” Ruth looked down at her feet. “I’d hate to think I had to put on shoes for the sake of a prickly mountain gorilla.”
Their laughter rang through the kitchen. The ease and delight they felt with each other stayed with them all through breakfast and through the trip down the mountain to retrieve Miranda.
And it was with them still, that easy grace, that delight, that contentment. As the three of them approached Cee Cee’s enclosure, he held his hand out to Ruth.
Neither of them expected that Cee Cee would be enchanted by the cat. The minute she saw it, she claimed it as her own.
“Me want,” she signed frantically when Ruth put Miranda down and the cat strolled by her enclosure.
“Want what?” Brett asked, signing.
“Fur ball love gimme fur ball.”
“The cat?” he asked, signing, then pointing to Miranda, who had settled into a sunny spot on the windowsill.
“What cat?” Cee Cee asked.
“That.” Brett pointed. “Cat.”
“No, no, no. Fur ball. Me want gimme.”
“She wants the cat,” he told Ruth.
“What will she do with her?”
“Let’s ask her... . Cee Cee, why do you want the fur ball?”
“Cee Cee love fur ball.” She made a cradle of her arms and pretended to be stroking the cat. Then she hid her eyes and peered shyly at Brett between her fingers.
“This is astonishing.” Brett could hardly contain his excitement. “She either wants to love the cat as a pet or as a substitute child. Either way, it’s remarkable behavior for a gorilla.”
“Will she hurt Miranda?” Ruth asked.
“No. But I’ll be with her to ensure both their safety.”
Ruth had a sudden inspiration.
“Tell her the fur ball belongs to the stink female.”
“The stink female?” Brett said, grinning.
“That’s all she ever calls me. Tell her if she wants to love the fur ball, she has to be nice to me.”
“A little bribery, Ruth?”
Brett was in high spirits, though how he could be, under the circumstances, was almost a miracle. He understood what the miracle was and that it would be his for only a few days. Still, he would not look toward the future, but be happy in the moment.
“She’s just a gorilla,” he added. “Do you think she’ll understand?”
“If she understands jealousy, hatred, and deception, she’s bound to catch on pretty fast to bribery.”
“Let’s give her a try ... if Miranda is willing.”
“Miranda will do anything for me.”
So will I, he thought, but saying so would have put her in a position of compromise and defense. And he would never do that to her.
“Cee Cee,” he said, signing, “this is Ruth.”
“No. Stink female.”
“Not stink female. Ruth. The cat belongs to Ruth. If you are nice to Ruth, you can play with the cat.”
Cee Cee poked out her lips in an enormous pout then turned her back on them. But not for long. Her curiosity got the better of her. She peered over her shoulder to see what the cat was doing. Miranda chose that moment to leave the windowsill and wrap herself around Ruth’s legs, purring.
Cee Cee turned around so fast, she fell flat on her bottom. “What fur ball say?” she asked, even before she got off the floor.
“Fur ball does not talk like Cee Cee. Fur ball is purring.”
“What purring?”
“Happy sounds.”
“Me want gimme gimme. Me good girl, fine animal gorilla, love Ruth.” Cee Cee wrapped her arms around herself in an exaggerated hug.
“See,” Ruth said. “I told you bribery would work.”
“You were right. There’s no telling what else we’ll discover while you’re here.”
The look that passed between them was temporarily blinding. If they got caught up in it, they would destroy more than themselves: They’d destroy the Corday family and all it stood for.
With every fiber of her being, Ruth wanted this man, wanted to touch and be touched, to kiss and be kissed, to love and be loved, for the first time in her life, truly loved.
She wished she didn’t have to think about what was best for anybody but herself.
“Careful there, Dr. Corday. You’re liable to have to step out of the limelight to make room for the Gorilla Woman.”
“It’s about time this family had a pretty face in the limelight.”
The room filled with their laughter. Better laughter than tears, Ruth thought.
Chapter 54
RUMANGABO
Chu Ling counted out the money, watching Malone’s face. Excitement was there. And greed. Both good signs, indications that Malone was his man. But something else was there, something that disturbed Chu Ling.
“You did an excellent job, Malone.”
“That’s what you paid me for.”
“My man says one of them would have died except for you.”
“I’m a veterinarian. I’m trained to save the lives of animals.”
Ah, there it was again. That little glimmer of belligerence—and remorse. Chu Ling knew that the kidnapping of the baby gorillas had resulted in a bloodbath.
“When can I expect another delivery?”
“I’ve been thinking... .”
Chu Ling sat quietly, his hands folded in a steeple, while Malone’s voice trailed off. If Malone expected him to ask questions or to speculate, he was doomed to disappointment. It was not Chu Ling’s way. Appearing anxious sacrificed face and power.
“I never expected such carnage.” Malone waited futilely for a response, then got up and paced the room. “I didn’t know I’d feel like such a betrayer when I saw my father and brother and when I saw Petey ... dead.” His voice broke, then he gathered his courage and came back to the chair facing Chu Ling. “I can’t do it again.”
“We made a ba
rgain.”
“I fulfilled my end of it, and you paid me. Fine. Period. End of deal.” He leaned forward in his chair, a fine sheen of sweat on his earnest face. “You know, I’ve been thinking. I don’t really need your money. Ruth’s not the kind of woman who goes for expensive jewels and crap like that. As much as she loves to putter around that cottage, I don’t even think a big, fancy house would turn her on.”
So now they were at the crux of the matter. Corday’s wife was frigid. At least with him. Chu Ling repressed his smile. Amazing what could be learned through silence.
“How ‘turned on’ will Mrs. Corday be when her husband is in jail?”
“Jail?”
“What you did is illegal.”
“But you ...”
“I was in San Francisco. I know none of the people you hired. They don’t know me, but they all know you.”
“It wouldn’t be long before they’d trace the whole scheme back to you.”
“Months, perhaps years. African officials don’t get too stirred up about these matters, and I hear conditions in the jails are somewhat undesirable.”
Hellholes. That’s what they were. Malone felt his newfound courage shriveling. He’d finally got himself into a predicament that no one could get him out of. Not even Brett.
“Okay. Let’s say that I do continue this ... project.” He crossed his legs to stop the trembling. “There have been developments you should know about.”
Chu Ling doubted Malone could tell him something he didn’t already know, but he adopted his usual silent posture.
“Patrols have been organized. I have control over two of them because I hired them, but Brett’s men run the other two, and they can’t be bought. Furthermore, Brett himself will take to the jungle. I know my brother. He won’t sit back and let somebody else do the dirty work.”
Malone was sweating in earnest now. If he could have dropped off the face of the earth, he would have. Vanish while he still had the regard of his family. But he couldn’t. And he couldn’t go back and undo what had been done, either. The only thing he could do was try to salvage whatever possible.
“I won’t endanger the lives of the men on patrol for this project, and I for damned sure won’t jeopardize my brother.” He felt the bile rising in his throat, but he swallowed hard and made himself hold it in. He’d be damned if he’d puke in front of this coldhearted bastard.
And if Chu Ling was a coldhearted bastard, what did that make him?
“I’ll get the baby gorillas out for you, but it has to be in my own time.”
“Take all the time you need.” Chu Ling smiled at him. “Take the rest of your life.”
Chapter 55
Ruth wasn’t prepared for the sight of Malone strolling up the path. She’d known the day would come, known her idyll on the mountaintop with Brett would end, but she hadn’t known that the pain would be physical, as if she were smothering and there wasn’t enough air in the world to revive her. She took a deep breath, then pushed her notebook aside and smoothed down her skirt. With a smile on her face she went to the door to welcome her husband.
“I’m home,” he said, grinning from behind a huge bouquet of yellow roses.
Loss. She felt an overwhelming sense of loss.
“Hi, sweetheart. How was your trip?”
“Physically and emotionally draining. I’m glad to be home.”
He leaned around the roses and kissed her on the cheek. A strange restraint for him. And a welcome one.
“I brought flowers.” He held them out like a little boy.
“So I see. Thank you.”
His grin was infectious. She couldn’t help but smile back.
He plopped onto the sofa facing Cee Cee’s enclosure and kicked off his shoes.
“Miss me while I was gone?”
Brett appeared in the doorway behind the sofa, his knuckles white on Cee Cee’s lunch tray.
“Yes,” she said to her husband, her eyes riveted on the man in the doorway. “I missed you,” she whispered.
For an instant there was a look of utter devastation on Brett’s face. Ruth wanted to cry. Instead she turned her face away from her husband’s brother.
“Malone,” Brett said, coming forward, his face fixed in a look of welcome. “Tell me everything.”
“I got two patrols organized, and I saw when I came up the trail that you already have Bantain and Juma on the job. I guess the poachers will think twice before they come back here and try any more dirty work.”
“I hope so. This delays Project Cee Cee, though.”
“Why? I thought things were running right on target. With my beautiful wife helping out, they should be ahead of schedule.”
Malone reached for Ruth’s hand and pulled her down onto the sofa beside him. She braced herself for a blatant display of desire, but he did no more than hold her hand and smile at her in his endearing way. She could almost believe he was the sweet, rather shy Malone she’d met in Hawaii.
Besides that, he was completely sober. There was not even a hint of alcohol on his breath.
Hope began to stir in her once more—hope for their marriage, hope for their future.
“I won’t risk putting Cee Cee in the jungle, even briefly, while the threat of violence to the mountain gorilla is hanging over us,” Brett said.
“With the patrols puffing through the jungle like dragons, things will be back to normal in no time.”
“I hope so.”
“They will. You’ll see.” He squeezed his wife’s hand. “Are you ready to go home, Ruth?”
She couldn’t look at Brett.
“I’m ready.”
“Thanks for taking care of her, bro.”
“My pleasure.”
Brett had known it would hurt to see her walk out the door; he hadn’t known how much. When she climbed into the Jeep with his brother and disappeared into the mists was not being in her bed, he thought how he’d miss seeing her in the kitchen, wearing no makeup, with the morning sun shining on her bare feet. His entire body hurt, as if it were fighting chills and a high fever. He had to sit down right where he was, just plop into the doorway and lean his head against the doorsill.
He realized suddenly that part of his inertia was anger, and part of his love was hate. For at that moment he hated her, hated her for marrying his brother, hated her for unlocking his heart, then walking away with the only key.
Mists swirled around him, and Brett was glad the sun hadn’t burned them away yet, glad he couldn’t see clearly. He didn’t want to view a world without Ruth. From a distance came the sound of Malone’s Jeep, taking her away, and high in the Virungas one of the giant male silverbacks drummed his chest.
Brett could taste loneliness. It was bittersweet, like the stamens of honeysuckle that grew wild in summertime along the side of the road in Alabama. On rare visits to his mother’s home when he was a child, he used to pluck the flowers, suck their insides, and toss them away, thoughtlessly, carelessly. He made silent apology to all the flowers that lay crushed along the road, buried in dirt because of him.
He went hollow inside. Her fragrance lingered on the sofa where she’d lain. In the kitchen he picked up the coffee cup she’d used only that morning. With his index finger he traced the rim.
Slowly he walked to the sink. The day before, she’d stood there with the sun shining on her bare feet. He pulled off his shoes and stood exactly where she had, as if by some miracle he might absorb her through the soles of his feet.
o0o
“You’re awfully quiet, Ruth,” Malone said as he guided the Jeep down the mountain. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Just tired, I guess.”
Heartbreak was extremely tiring. What was Brett doing now? Was he bent over his desk, his dark hair falling across his forehead, intent on recording Cee Cee’s daily life? Did he glance up to catch her eyes the way he had a habit of doing, hoping that by some miracle she might still be there?
If she thought about her loss too
much, she would burst into tears, cry buckets and lakes and rivers. Then how would she make her husband believe it was allergies?
“Me too,” he said, never guessing. “I’m not much in a talkative mood.”
They rode in silence until their house came into view, but it wasn’t the easy silence of beloved companions; rather, it was the uneasy silence of two explorers approaching the rim of an active volcano.
“There it is, Ruth. Home sweet home.”
The only miracle she dared wish for was that Malone’s words would come true. That the cottage really would become a home.
She approached the door with a sense of dread. Now that they were in private, Malone would practically tear her clothes from her body, taking undue liberties now that he didn’t have the restraints of birth control. Emotionally, she braced herself for the assault.
Instead she found herself lifted off her feet.
“Malone? What in the world are you doing?”
“Carrying my bride over the threshold. It’s something I neglected to do the first time.” He kicked open the door, and when they were inside, he set her on her feet. But still he did nothing more than reach for her hand. “There are lots of things I neglected to do, Ruth, and I intend to make up for them.”
“You’ve been a wonderful husband,” she said. “Kind, thoughtful ...”
“Childish, petulant ... drunk.” When she started to protest, he put a finger over her lips. “Don’t think that change is going to be easy for me, Ruth. It’s not. I know I’ve been drinking too much. If I hadn’t been skunk drunk the night before your mother came to visit you, I’d have been there for you, and you wouldn’t have had to go running off to my brother.”
“He seemed the natural one to turn to.”
“I’m not blaming you. I’ve gone running to Brett myself. We all run to Brett with our problems. What I’m saying is that I want to be the one you run to, Ruth. Will you let me prove myself worthy of your trust?”
“You don’t have to—”
“Don’t make excuses for me anymore. I’ve decided to grow up and take responsibility for my own actions.” He cupped her chin and tipped her face up to his. “Will you, Ruth? Will you let me prove myself?”
